Duplicity
by raz-lyubit
Summary: "No luck?" The man shook his head, and turned to see who had accompanied him. The figure towered over him, with a hood draped over his head, and a powerful presence about him. "I didn't expect him to come." Rated M for future chapters. Harry/Hermione
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Hi! This is my first story and I hope it takes to your liking :p

Firstly, I have to say that this is going to be a very non-linear story. I wanted to experiment a little with multiple story breaks. It's a narrative construct called fabula and syuzhet, if you've seen _Memento _or _Pulp Fiction_(both amazing movies, btw), you'll know what I'm talking about.

The plot starts after the end of the Order of the Phoenix, and picks up after the Christmas holidays in Harry's sixth year. He knows about the Horcruxes already, Dumbledore hasn't died, and Ron and Hermione are both on speaking terms.

Now that's just where the plot starts, the story starts somewhere different here. I hope you're not too confused (:

Anyway, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any material from _Harry Potter_.

* * *

><p>Prologue<p>

Rain was falling thick and fast on the disheveled bricks that made up Hogsmeade Lane. Nobody was staying outside long, the few people that were ran up and down the street with their cloaks over their heads, shielding themselves from the torrential downpour.

Down the lane, leaning against a wall outside the Three Broomsticks was a man, quite unperturbed by the rain, disappearing between clouds of smoke as he took drags from a cigarette. His eyes were fixed on an alleyway, not too far from where he was standing, as though he were expecting something.

The storm swelled in intensity, as though aggravated. Lightning forked across the sky every few moments, followed by the distant rumbling of thunder. The man fidgeted uncomfortably, not taking his eyes off of the dark alleyway.

The door to the Three Broomsticks opened and the man started. Two young men exited and shot him furtive looks before turning on their heel in quick succession and disappearing with a small _pop_.

The man leaned back against the wall and resumed his thorough inspection of the deserted alleyway.

Another loud crack seared the air, followed by more lightning which illuminated the surrounding area.

The alleyway was completely deserted and the man sighed, then started again as a hand clasped his shoulder.

"No luck?"

The man shook his head, and turned to see who had accompanied him.

The figure towered over him, with a hood draped over his head, and a powerful presence about him. The man shivered and turned back to the alley.

"I didn't expect him to come."

The man made to walk away, but a hand grasped his shoulder again and pushed him back towards the wall.

"I'll need you to stay here a little while longer."

The man shot him a venomous look, but nodded his consent and leaned back upon the wall. A smirk appeared across the second man's face under the hood.

"Good. I expect you to report back to me when the wind has blown out."

There was another small _pop_, and the pressure on the man's shoulder lifted.

He glanced up and saw that the storm clouds had thinned somewhat, but the rain had not ceased. In the distance, a castle was viewable, with lights flickering up the turrets, and flags whipping about in the wind.

It happened in an instant. As a particularly bright jet of lightning forked it's way through the clouds, it illuminated the alley for a split second, where a large black dog stood, staring intenly at the man. The ensuing thunderclap masked the man's yell as he shoved his hand in his pocket and drew out a thin strip of wood, but it was too late.

The dog had already bounded towards him and clamped its jaws on his wrist, knocking the strip of wood out of his hand. He twisted his arm madly, trying to free his wrist, but as he went to strike the dog holding him, the pair of jaws had turned into a strong hand, and after a sudden turn to the left, all the breath was sucked out of him, and everything went black.


	2. I Insomniac Dreams

**Chapter 1 - Insomniac Dreams**

"What's bothering you, Harry?"

Harry looked up to see Hermione eying him across the table. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room alone. It must have been very late, the fire in the corner of the room was flickering feebly, casting the room in semi-darkness.

Harry shook his head and returned to staring at his hands.

"Nothing."

"Please, do I really seem that daft?"

Harry grinned and looked back up at her to see she was wearing a concerned look.

"Really, it's nothing important."

Hermione sighed and resumed her Potions essay that was taking up half the table. Ron had given it up as a bad job a while ago and stormed to bed, cursing Slughorn as he went. Harry didn't have the heart to do it.

"I would think that you'd confide a little more in your best friends, Harry."

It was Harry's turn to sigh. It wasn't as if he didn't trust her, quite the opposite really. But it was hard to voice the concern that he was feeling at all times now. It was as if he _knew _something was going to happen soon, but he didn't know what.

"Well if you're just going to sit there and watch me work you might as well go to bed, it's late."

Harry shook his head again. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to."

"When was the last time?"

Harry shrugged. "A couple days ago, at least." It was hard to tell, the days were just starting to blur together, as if he was just living one prolonged day.

Hermione rolled up her completed essay and stared at him with a searching look. Harry turned his head away, not bearing to meet her eyes.

"You need to sleep, Harry. You're just making things harder on yourself."

Harry didn't answer her. Maybe it was true, but thinking about the situation seemed to calm him down. Sleeping would just wipe the slate clean.

Hermione stood up across from him.

"I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

Harry nodded, still not saying anything.

"Well, night, then," she said.

"G'night," Harry grunted.

She gave him one last sweeping look and then headed off the the girls dormitories, brushing his hair as she passed.

Harry leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and rested his head on his fist. He had been extremely detached from everybody for a few months now. He still hadn't told anyone about the prophecy, he and Dumbledore were the only two who knew.

And that night still haunted him.

He tried not to think about it too much, instead attempting to push the memory back into the recesses of his mind, but the attempts were futile. It was a monster that lingered with him wherever he went, and he was sure it would follow him until he died.

He stared into the fire, wishing anyone would pop their head in and offer him words of comfort. But it wouldn't happen anymore, not since...

"_Harry!"_

_Harry stirred in his bed, trying to ignore the voice attempting to wake him. He had been having such a nice dream..._

"_HARRY!"_

_He sat bolt upright, his glasses hanging off his nose haphazardly. He recognized that voice, the note of panic in it._

_Harry stood up and replaced his glasses on the bride of his nose, glancing at Ron's bed. It was empty._

_He grabbed his wand from the bedside table, ran across the room and wrenched the door open. Screams and yells met his ears, and he saw Ron dashing up the stairs to meet him, his wand out._

"_Ron! What's happened?"_

"_Harry. They found us, they're here."_

"_What are you talking-"_

_A loud bang echoed up the Burrow's staircase, and a man ran up towards them, draped in a black cloak, pointing his wand at Ron, who yelled._

"_NO!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_

_Harry was too quick for him, and the force of the Death Eater's rebounded Stunning spell knocked him back down the staircase and out of sight._

"_Where is everyone?" Harry asked, as he made his way downstairs, stepping over the unconscious Death Eater, Ron at his heels._

"_Outside, fighting. Blimey, they appeared out of nowhere. Someone must have betrayed us, this place is under the Fildelius Charm, Mum and Dad made Sirius secret-keeper because he never left Grimmauld Place, but since he died..."_

_Ron trailed off, glancing at Harry. He hadn't talked about Sirius's death since it happened._

"_It doesn't matter, c'mon."_

_Harry jumped the last six steps and bolted out of the door to the garden, Ron right behind him._

_A horrible sight met his eyes. It was pandemonium. There were at least twenty Death Eaters in masks, dueling every one of the Weasley's, along with members of the Order. Kingsley was dueling three at once, Lupin was right next to them, dueling Dolohov who's mask had fell off, and with a complicated motion of his wand, Lupin crumpled._

"_NO!"_

_Dolohov turned his head to Harry and a sneer stretched across his face._

_Harry sent a Stunning spell at him, but he deflected it with a lazy flick of his wand and pointed it as his chest._

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_Harry ducked and he felt the heat from the Killing Curse graze his neck._

"_No! He's the Dark Lord's to finish!"_

_He recognized the voice of the person behind the mask and hatred rose up his throat. Bellatrix Lestrange shot a Stunning spell at him, but he blocked it. He pointed his wand back at her, intending to commit his first murder, but a hand grasped his upper arm and dragged him in the opposite direction._

"_Harry, you need to get out of here!" Ron yelled. He grabbed the Invisibility Cloak that was hanging out of Harry's back pocket and threw it over them both._

"_SHE KILLED SIRIUS!"_

_Harry attempted to wrench free of Ron's grip, but he shoved him back against the wall of the house._

"_I know, but he died to save you, and if you die right here, right now, it'll have all been in vain."_

_Ron grabbed his arm again and made for the entrance to the garden, edging around all the fighters._

_Spells still erupted all around him. He was worried for everyone else, and he hoped against all hope that Lupin was okay, that Dolohov's curse hadn't been fatal._

_Harry shot shield charms everywhere he could, shielding his companions from further harm, and the Death Eater's looked around around, bewildered at who was stopping them._

_Ron stopped unexpectedly and Harry ran straight into him. He turned around and looked up into the face of Dumbledore, who immediately grabbed them both and Disapparated._

_He felt as though he were being squeezed from all sides. He couldn't breathe, he had no idea where he was, and all he could feel was Dumbledores firm grip on his arm, and the unrelenting pressure._

_His feet finally found solid ground, and his knees buckled from under him. He collapsed on all fours, the Invisibility Cloak slipping off of him, and looked up to see that he had been brought to Dumbledore's study. Ron was hunched over in a corner, retching violently._

"_Dumbledore-"_

_But with a swish of his cloak and a loud crack, he was gone._

Harry jerked awake. He had dozed off, but from the dark sky visible from the window across the room it couldn't have been for long.

He had dreamed about that night again. He always did when he fell asleep, just like when Cedric had died, which was part of the reason he refused to let sleep engulf him.

So much heartbreak had happened that night, and it was all because of him. He, Harry, had been the cause of the deaths of four people he held most dear.

Dumbledore had Apparated back into his study with a delirious Fred and Ginny shortly after he had brought Harry and Ron. He had told them most of the family and Order had escaped safely and were in hiding at Ron's Aunt Muriel's home, for which he himself was secret-keeper.

But he had also brought the terrible news that George, Lupin, Mad-Eye and Mr. Weasley had died fighting.

Thinking back to that shocked moment of silence in the headmaster's study brought a sickening feeling in his stomach and his eyes started to water.

He could never associate himself with them again, not if he wanted them to survive.

The sound of people moving in the dormitories above shook him from his reverie, and he got up to feign like he had a refreshing night's sleep like the rest of them.


	3. II The Three Assassins

**Chapter 2 - The Three Assassins**

* * *

><p>Rain tapped lightly on the windows outside the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't very busy, with people deciding not to risk their safety for a simple drink in a pub, where anyone could be watching.<p>

Madam Rosmerta was standing behind her bar, talking drinks from a bottle of firewhisky, looking very sullen. The guests in her tavern wasn't exactly what she would call desirable.

A man sat in the very back of the bar, a table all to himself. He was twirling an envelope in his hands, which read:

_Urgent – Read Immediately_

_To - Morgan Rapke_

A bell chinked and the man looked up to see two dark, hooded figures entering through the door. Madam Rosmerta looked up hopefully, but then made a noise of discontent and turned her back on the newcomers in disgust.

The men paid Rosmerta no attention, but made for the man sitting in the corner and took seats opposite him.

"Rapke," said the larger of the two in a hoarse voice.

"Avery, Dolohov," said the man, nodding to both in turn.

Both Avery and Dolohov removed their hoods, and the man named Rapke did as well.

He was very pale, with bright blue eyes. He had long, dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, and a scruffy beard, that looked as though he hadn't shaved in days. He seemed very unkempt, but when he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were dazzlingly white.

"It seems as though your master is ah, _displeased_, with me being the one to meet Potter here."

Dolohov hissed. "_Your _master? Surely, Rapke, you don't undervalue your life so much as to disown the man you owe your life to."

Rapke laughed. "Just the reaction I'd thought you'd have. What makes you think I owe him anything? He's done nothing for me, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I'll be _serving _him much longer."

Avery stood up quickly and drew his wand, but Rapke didn't flinch.

"Tell your lapdog that he's about to make a very stupid mistake."

Rapke locked eyes with Rosmerta for a brief second, and gave her an imperceptible nod. She disappeared into the back room.

Dolohov eyed Rapke for a moment, then held out a hand to Avery.

"If he's telling the truth, and he is a double agent, he won't be alive much longer. Stay your hand Avery, let's see what the traitor has to say."

Avery slowly sat back in his chair, but didn't lower his wand. He was giving Rapke a look of utmost contempt.

"You twits are getting smarter by the minute," said Rapke, smirking at the pair of them. He glanced at the bar. Rosmerta still hadn't returned.

"Tell us why you brought us here, before we lose our patience."

Rapke deliberately hesitated. He had to keep them here a certain amount of time, this was essential. He glanced at his watch, where the time said 7:20. He decided to repress the information until absolutely necessary.

"Well, as you know, Voldemort-"

Avery shot back up again, with such force that he knocked his chair backwards. He shot a curse at Rapke, but it merely glanced off a shield charm he had cast a moment before and hit a torch, which fell from it's bracket and set the table under it ablaze.

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name!" Dolohov barked.

Rapke just laughed again. Manipulating these men was just too easy.

He pointed his wand at the table that had been set on fire and it instantly went out, leaving it without a blemish.

"You dare-" began Avery, but Rapke cut across him.

"The _Dark Lord_, if you will, gave me very explicit orders to be here, right now. You two, on the other hand, are supposed to be at Grimmauld place, waiting for the time when Potter will arrive there. The Dark Lord trusts me, irrevocably. Dolohov, you let Potter escape _twice, _in the past three months, and Avery, when's the last time you've been on a mission and hadn't managed to entirely fuck it up. I'm surprised to see you still standing, to be honest."

Dolohov's face was brick red, evidently trying to suppress the rage growing inside of him. Minutes passed by in scornful silence, before Dolohov finally spoke.

"What are you trying to say?" Dolohov asked, his voice shaking, malice etched in every syllable.

Rapke stared at him, again deliberately wasting time. He glanced at his watch again. It was 7:30.

"Oh, nothing really," Rapke replied, leaning back in his chair so he was balancing it on it's back two legs. "Just that I've been able to gain the Dark Lord's favoritism, all while I've been plotting against him. And you two, who've been faithful from the start, are now looked at like scum."

For a third time Avery stood up and pointed his wand directly at Rapke who, finally sensing real danger, let his chair fall with a thud and stood up as well, looking Avery full in the face.

"If you kill me right now, the Dark Lord will never cease to hunt you. He won't believe your pitiful delegations of turncoats and traitors and he will murder you before the week is out. So if I were you I'd lower my wand."

Rosmerta had finally returned, and she was looking between Avery and Rapke with apprehension on her face.

The silence stretched and Avery didn't lower his wand or look away, it was as if he didn't want to give Rapke a chance to attack him.

"Potter is meeting me outside here in 15 minutes, at which time, he'll be handed over to the Dark Lord-"

"Lies!" bellowed Dolohov. "If you are against the Dark Lord, you are with the boy, you intend to help him!"

Rapke sat back down, motioning Avery to do the same, but he remained standing, staring at Rapke audaciously.

"Very well, then."

Rapke leaned back in his chair again and looked outside. The rain had turned into a full force gale.

It would be hard to hold a meeting in the storm, but it would be easy to escape the two Death Eaters across from him if need be.

"What is Potter meeting _you _for?" Dolohov spat.

"Obviously, Voldemort thought I was his only servant trustworthy enough to trust with this task."

The two men hissed at the sound of their master's name, but he took no notice.

"I have told Potter that I have information that will be valuable to him, some of the Dark Lord's secrets, his undercover Death Eaters, so on and so forth."

"And I expect you'll actually give him all this information, like the filthy blood-traitor you are."

Rapke smirked and nodded. "Too right you are."

"Why the hell have you brought us here then? I thought this was important."

"Oh, it is. I haven't revealed my point. I want you to report to Voldemort at say, 8 o'clock? Tell him everything. Tell him what a filthy blood-traitor I am, and how I kept Potter from harm's way, when he thought he was all but his. Tell him I have found out who his spy is in the Order, and where he keeps his Sorcerer's Stone, the one that he made with alchemists that he kidnapped, the one he thought no living soul knew about after he killed them all. So can you remember all that for me, or are you two too dim-witted?"

Dolohov and Avery just sat gaping at him, apparently too enraged to speak. Rapke glanced at his watch again. It was 7:45. Time to act.

"Well, lads, it's been a nice chat, but I really should be off. I probably won't be seeing you until we're all in hell, so..." Rapke stood and gave them a tiny bow. "...I bid you adieu."

He strode away from the table and towards, the bar where he stopped and looked at Rosmerta.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Oh, it was nothing," she said with a smile. "Will we be in touch soon?"

Rapke nodded. "I believe so."

He walked away towards the door, pausing only to light a cigarette on a torch.


End file.
